Soon you will be sitting on top of the World
by thequietworld92
Summary: Four best friends have drifted apart. Ron is drunk and depressed, Ginny is alone and asleep, Hermione is busy and hardworking, and Harry is in love. What happened to make them this way? What went wrong?
1. New Lives

_**Chapter 1: New Lives**

* * *

__Soon you will be sitting on top of the world. _

Ron sighed as he scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it on the floor. He didn't understand these 'fortune cookies.' Harry had explained that Muggles used them for a bit of fun, but Ron, personally, couldn't see the fun in reading that your life would soon be looking up. Especially if it wasn't true.

Being told that things would turn out great was almost worse than the constant warnings of peril he and his classmates had endured from old Professor Trelawney back in their Hogwarts days. He had hated her then for being depressing and repetitive, now he hated the stale fortune cookie for lying to him.

"We're closing up in a few minutes, Mate." Neil, the bartender, called to him. Ron lifted his head to look at him, and a searing pain ran through his skull.

"Ugh" he groaned, gripping his head in pain and trying not to imagine what Hermione would be doing right now.

"You look like you've got a hang over. Bit early for that isn't it?" Neil laughed harshly.

"Not when you've been drinking all day." Ron dropped his head again and stared at the floor. It was worn, filthy and covered in spilled alcohol. He'd never realised he could have so much in common with the floor.

_

* * *

_

**As we go on, we remember, all the times we had together

* * *

**

Ginny was fast asleep on the couch. Her parents had gone out for the night, and she had been left alone in the house, watching the television Harry had given her in her seventh year.

She had come home for Christmas and Harry had presented her with a little box of pictures, which he had explained to her was used by Muggles for entertainment. Unfortunately when he had tried to teach her how to get it working, they had discovered there was no electricity at the Burrow. After several hours of trying and some help from Hermione, they had managed to bewitch it to run by magic. Unluckily, they were unable to find a way to turn it off, so Ginny had to leave it on all day. She didn't really mind; she liked the background noise, especially lately with the house so empty.

The television was one of her most treasured possessions; not only had Harry given it to her, but it had actually belonged to him. He had decided to buy a new one, so had given his old one to her. Her father had immediately begun eyeing it off, and she hadn't been about to go back to Hogwarts and leave it unprotected. She kept it well away from her father with a protection charm; only she could touch it, and she never really needed to anyway, except to change the volume occasionally.

Tonight she had fallen asleep watching an odd Muggle show called "The Bill." In her opinion one of the most boring shows around (she had observed many since she had received the television) it had quite a following, and she had thought that perhaps she would give it another go. Unfortunately, five minutes into the show she had fallen into a deep sleep, only to miss the entire episode.

She still found it strange whenever she had the burrow to herself. All of her brothers had moved out long ago, except for Ron, who was never around anyway. Her parents had taken advantage of this and had lately been spending romantic evenings either at the house or at some new Muggle restaurant. She suspected her father liked these restaurants because of the opportunity to observe Muggles; he had complained about the food several times, so that couldn't be why he had been so eager to head back to one they had visited a few days ago. Ginny couldn't really complain; thanks to Ron's absence, she was left alone for several hours almost every night. She would take this time to look back on her life and pick through it, trying to find something worthwhile. The only things she ever found were her friends… and Harry.

It was another story entirely when Molly decided on a night in. She would cook Mr Weasley a brilliant meal, spending the whole day preparing it. During that day she would either enlist Ginny's help or kick her out of the house; she said she needed to 'concentrate' while she cooked; she couldn't have her husband going hungry, could she? So Ginny spent those days at Hermione's house, stuffing herself with food while Hermione was at work.

It really annoyed Ginny how much time Hermione spent at work. She knew that Hermione was the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (recently renamed the Department for the Welfare and Protection of Magical Creatures) and that she was very busy, but she was spending all of her time at the ministry, and not enough with her friends. She often thought sadly of Ron as she watched Hermione rush about, and wished that Hermione would put her life before her job, for once.

_

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_

**And as our lives change, from whatever, we will still be friends forever.**

* * *

The house looked hard done by, and somehow very tired. Its weather-beaten roof was missing several shingles; the ones that were left were faded and scratched. The high fence around it had large holes in it, big enough for her to step through without having to bow her head. The few scattered windows she could see were empty of glass, other than a shattered pane here or there. The front door hung loosely off its hinges, flapping about in the harsh wind. As she observed it, she noticed that the house looked as though it was on a slant, and she realised that half of it had sunken into the ground.

Carefully swinging open the squeaky gate, she wandered down the dark pathway that led to the front veranda; the click of her heels on the stones blowing away with the wind. Several Muggles living in the area had made complaints to the police about strange noises coming from the house, and the police were preparing themselves to make an investigation soon. Luckily for the poor creature inside, this morning an ill witch had stumbled into the house, seeking shelter, to find a house-elf.

As Hermione walked through the threshold, she thought yet again how lucky it was that this House-elf had been found; if the young woman had come by a few days later, the police would have searched the property and discovered the elf already. Not only would that have been disastrous for the elf, but she knew all too well what would have happened if the police had found him; the magical world may have all been uncovered.

"Hello?" Hermione's voice echoed in the still house, ringing in her ears. She waited silently for an answer, but received none. "Hello? It's okay, don't be scared. I'm here to help you." Her words fell on a cold and silent house, so she carefully approached the rickety staircase and began to climb. "My name is Hermione, and I am from the department for the protection and welfare of magical creatures. Please come out, let me help you." Little did she know that a house-elf with any decency knew her name; she had been fighting for their freedom for many years. Any self respecting elf would hide upon hearing the name "Hermione", but this one did not. Instead, when she reached the top of the staircase, she turned a corner to see the small creature bent over, muttering to itself.

"Hello? My name is Hermione. Who are you?" Hermione approached the creature slowly and calmly, but before she could reach it, the small, aged house-elf turned to face her.

"I is Kreacher."

_

* * *

_

**As we go on, we remember, all the times we've lost forever…**

* * *

Mathilda Francis made her way up the path to the door of the house. It was a small cottage; rather old and weather beaten, but still lovely in her opinion. It wasn't very big, and it hadn't been very expensive, but it was Harry's, so she loved it. As she reached the front door she was about to knock when she remembered her key. Fumbling around in her pocket she pulled out a shiny silver door key, and grinned to herself. When Harry had given her the key a week ago, she had been shocked, and a little scared. Now she felt happy, excited and proud to be his girlfriend. 

Opening the door, she grinned as she saw him making his way down the hall, his unkempt hair messier than usual. Rubbing his eyes he squinted at her.

"I heard your car. What time is it?" he groaned, protecting his eyes with his hand as she switched on a light.

"It's only ten, Babe. I can't believe you're already in bed." Mathilda close the door and went over to him. Wrapping her arms around him she pressed her mouth to his. Harry let her kiss him but he didn't kiss her back; it was late, he was tired, and he still found it uncomfortable when she called him 'Babe'.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Mathilda's thick New York accent pushed through, even though she'd lived in England for five years. She tried to put on an English accent every so often, but she wasn't really any good at it.

"Nothing… Babe." He smiled at her and grinned; he knew that she spoke differently to him, and that she didn't understand why he hesitated sometimes when she spoke. She swore a lot more than him too, but he loved her for it. He loved everything about her, or so he told himself.

"Oh, Babe. Your accent is _so_ cute!" she squealed and jumped on him, letting him catch her in his arms. The scent of her perfume drifted into his nostrils and he laughed.

"Yours is pretty cute too." He laughed, brilliant green eyes twinkling. Lately he had really been trying to talk like she did; he even took notes sometimes of what words meant and when he should use them. He knew she had been influencing him without him knowing; sometimes when he was talking with Ron there would be times when Ron wouldn't understand him. He'd just laugh it off and say "Matti" and they'd continue their conversation.

Harry breathed in her scent and stroked her hair. It was thick and blonde; not natural, he knew, and smelled strongly of expensive perfume. When they'd met her hair had been midnight black, but she had told him, as though it were obvious, that they couldn't _both _have black hair, and his looked too 'cute' to dye. So now she had bleached blonde hair down to her shoulders, impossibly straight and remarkably like straw when wet. It felt odd to be brushing his hand through straw, but he didn't mention it because he didn't want to hurt her; he loved her.

He hoped he did anyway.

_

* * *

_

**And as our lives change, from whatever, will we still be, friends forever?

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**


	2. My heart is breaking so let me cry

**Summary: **Two broken hearted siblings deal with their pain in different ways as the source of their misery is slowly explained.

_Song Lyrics taken from Ten Days- Missy Higgins_

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_**Chapter 2: My heart is breaking so let me cry**

* * *

_

The uneven thud of drunken footsteps filled the dark street, accompanied only by the rumble of tired vehicles carrying late night businessmen along the distant highway. One dim streetlight produced a weak glow, illuminating a sign hanging over the doorway of a dark and empty building. The letters carved into the dark, wet wood read: _The black sheep._

The street was empty but for a lone figure, slowly making its way down the road. He was swaying slightly, groaning with each step he took. Rounding the corner he shielded his eyes from the blinding headlights of a car speeding its way past him.

_Bloody Muggles, _Ron thought to himself. _Don't even look where they're driving those things._

He stumbled across the road, cursing as he splashed his way through a knee deep puddle. The pounding of his head matched the thud of his footsteps, and he laughed at what his mother would say if she saw him now.

It was easy fooling his parents; they were so quick to believe that he was behaving, that he was a _good_ boy. They didn't notice when he came home reeking of Muggle beer and smoke, they just smiled at him and said he should get some rest; he looked tired. It was even easier to fool them these days, as they were barely ever home at night. They were always off at some Muggle restaurant trying to be romantic, 'reigniting their romance' as they called it.

Though his parents believed the stories he spun, of spending his time out with friends, looking for love, he couldn't fool Ginny. Each night he turned up at some ungodly hour, drunk and smelling strongly of smoke and filth, and she would scream at him about being an idiot, that he was ruining his life. He'd scream back at her, insulting her and once even lashing out at her. He knew she was right though, and even as he shouted and yelled and fought with her, he wished that he could be like his little sister. He knew her heart was broken too, but she didn't spend her nights drunk at Muggle pubs, drowning in her sorrows and feeling sorry for herself. She had managed to find a job, make some friends and get on with her life. Why couldn't he?

Tonight he wasn't in the mood for another fight with Ginny; he'd have to find somewhere else to spend the night. Another car came speeding along and he noticed it was a taxi.

"Oi!" he shouted, raising his arm as he ran over to the vehicle. "I need a ride!"

The taxi slowed and he pulled the door open, sinking into the back seat, his head still throbbing.

"Where to mate?" asked the driver, his tired face creasing as he squinted at Ron.

"Thirteen Green tree Drive." Ron was barely conscious of what he was saying, and even as the words left his mouth he wondered where they had come from.

As the driver set off, Ron leaned back into the comfort of the seat, groaning as he felt a violent throb pulse through his head.

Ten or so minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of a small, white house and the driver turned to Ron.

"That'll be three pounds, Mate." He spat. Ron pulled back slightly. He'd forgotten that he would have to pay. He'd spent almost all of his Muggle money at the pub. Searching through his pockets he pulled out two pounds and handed it to the driver.

"Will that do? Sorry, but I don't have anything else." He prayed for the driver to accept his money, and his prayers were granted.

"You look like you could use a break, so I guess this'll do; if you don't have any more." With that Ron pulled open the door and heaved himself out of the car, waving to the driver as he groggily made his way towards the house. As he reached the door he sighed and wondered yet again what he was doing here. Pulling himself up he leant on the doorbell and waited.

* * *

_**So we've put an end to it this time, I'm no longer yours and you're no longer mine …**_

* * *

Ginny woke to the sound of her mother's voice. 

"That restaurant was lovely, even better than last time. We really should go back there again." Ginny's father grunted his agreement as they opened the door and made their way into the house. Ginny sat up and rubbed her eyes, turning to look at the television. She didn't want her parents to know she had fallen asleep. She knew they wouldn't care, but she focused her tired eyes on the colourful set anyway.

"Ginny?" Her mother called. "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah, Mum. How was your dinner?" Ginny stifled a yawn as she talked and wondered absentmindedly if Ron was home yet.

"Wonderful! It was delicious wasn't it Arthur? Though I do say, I make a much better roast lamb…" Mrs Weasley continued to gush on about the food and Ginny felt herself slip almost into sleep again.

"Oh, that sounds really nice Mum. But I'm going to go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning." Mrs Weasley nodded and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek, and she slowly made her way up to her bedroom. On her way past Ron's room, she saw that he wasn't home yet. Sighing, she closed the door so that her parents wouldn't notice, and went into her bedroom. Gently shutting the door behind her she sank onto the floor and let her head fall into her arms.

She sat on the floor for a long time listening to the sounds of her parents getting ready to go to bed. When she finally heard their voices fade to silence she stood up and went over to her closet. Pulling open a drawer, she found a stack of letters, held in a bundle with string. Grabbing the bundle she went over to her bed and lay down on it, untying the string and letting the letters fall onto her bedspread. She picked up the first one and opened it, and began to read.

_Dear Ginny,_

_How are you? I hope that the experience with Voldemort hasn't affected you as it has me. I'm so scared for you Ginny. I broke up with you to protect you, but he got to you anyway. I just want you to be happy and safe. I know that he's still out there, and I also know that Hogwarts is the safest place for you now. If he does find a way to come back, you will be protected there. I know that it isn't the same as having Dumbledore, but they have so many Aurors protecting it that I know you won't get hurt. I am spending all of my time working on my Auror training. After what happened with Voldemort I'm more determined than ever to finish this. I want to be able to help people, Ginny. But what I want most is for you to be safe, and once I have passed I will be able to protect you._

_I miss you so much._

_Love, _

_Harry _

She reached out for another as she slipped the piece of parchment back into its envelope.

_Dear Ginny,_

_Auror training is becoming more and more difficult, but it's great all the same. I feel so free now, living on my own without the Dursleys. It's like I'm a whole new person. I know my last letter was full of concern, but now I am feeling so much lighter, and not nearly as worried. I am sure you are safe, and I hope that your classes are going well. I can't wait until Christmas when I'll get to see you again. I have a special present for you, I hope you like it. _

_Missing you more than ever,_

_Harry _

A tear leaked down Ginny's cheek, and she reached for several more letters. Her heart felt heavier with every one she read.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I had the best time at Christmas. I miss you even more now that I've seen you again. How are things going at Hogwarts? I miss it a lot, but I'm happy in my new life. I love Auror training, but I'm feeling increasingly worried. How am I ever going to find the last Horcrux? Dumbledore didn't know what it was, and I can't find any way of working it out. I feel so pressured Ginny; everyone thinks Voldemort is gone for now, and that they are safe. I've told them that he isn't gone, that he can still come back, but they don't believe me. They are too happy being free. How am I supposed to feel happy, to relax, when I know he is out there somewhere, his Death Eaters no doubt trying to bring him back to power again? How can I relax when I know that he has all of this information on me and my friends? Every time someone sees me they wave and smile, because they think I destroyed him. Oh Gin, I need you here with me. I don't think I can bear to wait until school is over. I love you so much._

_Love, _

_Harry_

_Dear Ginny,_

_Auror training is as usual; very difficult but also rewarding. Has Hermione told you? No doubt she has, you are her best friend after all. She and Ron have broken up. I don't understand why, perhaps you can explain to me; Hermione won't. Ron said Hermione felt that he was holding her back, or something like that. I've seen her with another man; I think he's one of her work colleagues. I know that Hermione is very obsessive about her work, but why would she let it come between her and Ron? I'm just glad that nothing like that will ever happen to us. Oh, did I tell you Ginny? There's this witch I've been training with, she's from America and has come here to train to be an Auror. Her name is Mathilda Francis. She's very nice, reminds me of you a lot. I think you two would be great friends. It's been good to have her to talk to; Hermione is always so busy and Ron hasn't really been in the mood for talking lately._

_Missing you insanely,_

_Harry_

The sight of the name Mathilda made Ginny's blood run cold. It had seemed such an innocent friendship when Harry had first mentioned her, how was Ginny to know that she would be the end of their relationship? She was sobbing now, her body shook as she read yet another of Harry's precious letters.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I know this will come as a shock, but I've quit Auror training. It was becoming very full on, and with everything else that's going on I couldn't handle it. It was Mathilda that helped me realise it wasn't doing anybody any good. Right now I have to focus on working out what the last Horcrux is, and destroying it. I can't be busy worrying about becoming an Auror; I can start training again once I've defeated Voldemort. It's so much easier now that I don't have to worry about training every day, I can focus on my friends, my aim, and you. _

_Love,_

_Harry _

Ginny supposed she should have seen something was wrong then. Harry was so involved in his Auror training, so proud of what he was doing. She was shocked when she read that he was quitting. She put it down to stress, but she realised now that it was all Mathilda's fault. Slowly she lifted the last three letters and, determined not to rip them to shreds, began to read the letters that had ruined everything.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I bought a house! It's a cottage really, but it's very nice. It's quite old and a little run down, but Mathilda is going to help me fix it up. I can't wait for you to see it, you'll love it. Mathilda has some really good ideas; I think it's the American in her, personally. They're very different ideas, but I think they might work. Of course it's just a plain old Muggle house, and I've decided to keep it as Muggle as possible. I want to blend in a little, not be so… famous. Anyway, I hope you're studying for your exams! I'm sure Hermione has said this enough times that I don't need to, but I really want you to do well. I know you will._

_Harry _

There were so many signs! Why didn't she see it? The letters she sent him were so dull and full of school that he was probably getting bored with her. She had wondered then what had inspired him to buy a house, but now she knew that it was Mathilda. Mathilda ruined everything. If she read closely she could almost hear the fondness of her in his words. There was also the fact that he had signed the letter with _Harry_. Not Love, not 'Missing you', just _Harry._ His next letter had come months later, it was a few weeks before her final exams that it had arrived.

_Ginny,_

_How are you? I hope Hogwarts is good. Say hello to McGonagall for me. Everything is well here, the house looks great. Good luck on your N.E.W.Ts._

_Harry_

This was when she had realised. There was no enthusiasm in the letter, just practical questions and a quick mention of the house he had been so thrilled about in his last letter. She had known then that something was wrong, and she had written to him about it.

_Dear Harry,_

_Is something wrong? Your last letter sounded very empty. What did you do to the house? Does it look Muggle like? How's Mathilda? Hogwarts is good; I'm studying a lot for my N.E.W.Ts, so I think I will do well. I miss you Harry, you haven't written a lot lately. Please tell me what's wrong._

_Love, _

_Ginny_

His reply had come after Ginny's N.E.W.Ts, three days before she finished school.

_Ginny_,

_I'm so sorry. I know you must have done well on your N.E.W.Ts; you worked so hard for them. I know I haven't written much, and I'm sorry for that. It's just… I think we should break up. I don't think I love you any more Ginny. I'm in love with someone else._

_I'm so so sorry Ginny; I'll never forgive myself for not telling you sooner._

_Harry_

Ginny dropped the letter and turned to her pillow, sobbing. She remembered the day the letter had come; she had been waiting for it. She'd ripped it off Hedwig's leg and ran back to her dorm. Collapsing onto her bed she had read it, and her heart had broken.

She had spent her last three days at school crying, and no matter what anyone said she had refused to leave her dormitory. The train ride home she had found an empty carriage and locked it, giving herself space. She had spent the trip writing and rewriting a letter to Harry, one that she never intended to give him.

_Dear_ _Harry_,

_I just wanted you to know that you have broken my heart. I love you, and I always will, even if you don't love me back. I am glad you will never forgive yourself, because I will never forgive you either. I do not hate you, but I hate what you did to me. I hate that you lied to me, and that you broke up with me by letter. But no matter how much I hate you, I will b always /b love you_

_Yours always,_

_Ginny_

She had finished the letter just as the train pulled up at platform nine and three quarters, and had left it in her carriage to rot over summer, as she herself would rot for the rest of her life, because the one she had given her heart to loved someone else.

* * *

_**But time has changed, nothing at all, you're still the only one that feels like home…

* * *

**_


	3. A new song

**Summary:** Fifth year student, Ann Sligo, witnesses a very different song from the Sorting hat on her first day back at Hogwarts. Little does she know, this is only the beginning...

**_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter 3: A new song_**

**_

* * *

_**The loud chatter and busy conversation of students, just returned from summer break, filled the Great Hall of Hogwarts like thunder. It echoed around, filling every nook and cranny, frightening away the spiders and insects that had made it their home over the holidays. Ann Sligo was seated at the Ravenclaw table, talking hurriedly with her best friend Bethany before the sorting began. There was so much to tell, and Ann wanted to get it all out before the first years came in and they were all expected to watch silently. 

"Indonesia was fascinating, very different from Australia. Not that I didn't love Australia, but we stayed out in the bush and it was terrible. It was a nice change in Indonesia, we stayed with Wizards. In Australia we were out in the bush, staying in this tiny little hut that an old couple rented to us. Indonesia was so hot, but they were all wearing long pants and long sleeved shirts. I barely wore anything!" she laughed and soon had Bethany giggling along with her. "And there were cats and dogs everywhere, roaming the streets. They were so thin, Beth! They looked like they were about to die!"

"They probably were, Ann," Beth reminded her. "They don't take care of animals over there like we do here. Those dogs and cats would have been strays, living off the scraps they found on the side of the road."

Ann nodded, but tears formed in her grey eyes. She couldn't bear to see an animal suffering, and it had pained her to watch as the poor animals crawled around, searching for something to fill their empty bellies.

"I know…" she looked down at her hands, but after a moment looked up, brushed the tears from her cheeks and began to continue her description. "Anyway… It smelled terrible over there! A lot like smoke and… heat! When we got back, everyone said we smelled something awful, and asked had we showered all holidays!" Bethany snorted loudly, but a quick glare from Prefect Elizabeth Dawson, seated across the table from her, made her cover her face quickly.

"But the wizards and witches over there are so different from us Beth. They didn't seem to notice the heat, and they wore their robes everywhere, I felt embarrassed when I turned up in my bikini!" Beth nodded and laughed again, and as Ann saw the headmistress leading in a long row of first years, she hurried to tell Beth more before they were quietened.

"They tried to teach me some of their language, but all I remember is 'thank you!'" McGonagall stood at the front of the hall and called for hush as the first years were seated in front of the four house tables. The girls turned towards her and Ann whispered quickly in Bethany's ear, "Terima kasih!"

The Sorting Hat had already been placed on a three legged stool in front of the line of first years, and Ann could see that every one of them looked nervous. Every one except a tall black haired boy with pale skin and a smug expression; she suspected he already knew what the hat was for. Looking away from the black haired boy, Ann focused her attention on the hat. It was sitting silently on the stool, waiting for complete silence and the students' undivided attention.

Just as Ann was beginning to wonder if the Hat would ever move, and the first years were frozen with nerves, it broke into a loud, racy song.

_Welcome students, new and old,_

_I am the sorting hat,_

_I'm here to find where you belong…_

At this point, the hat's cheerful voice turned cold, and the words that followed sent shivers down Ann's spine; they were not the words of the Sorting Hat.

_You foul and filthy rats_

The hat stopped singing and shuddered, then a cheerful voice sprang from its brim once again, the students relaxed slightly. Ann shivered though, and stared at the hat. Since when did the sorting hat call students rats?

_Of the four houses I will find_

_The one to be your home._

_I'll look into your head-_

Once again the hat shuddered and a cold, almost evil voice rang through the hall. The Sorting hat interrupted itself with words that shocked every occupant in the hall.

-_beware_

_Do not roam alone_

Ann heard a shrill squeak behind her and turned to see Bethany, her eyes wide in horror and her hands over her mouth. Ann knew exactly how she felt; there was most definitely something wrong. She turned back to the hat and expected it to once again sing out in its cheerful tone, as though the terrible words it had just uttered were merely a dream. Unfortunately, the hat's tone didn't change, and the words that came next terrified the students and teachers alike. Ann was sure she saw Professor Trelawney faint.

_Those who travel by themselves_

_Will find that they shan't see_

_Their mother's eyes or father's smile_

_Again… they'll just see me_

Ann shuddered, and looked around at the teachers. Why weren't they doing anything? They were all sitting there, staring at the hat, their mouths hanging open but their feet planted firmly in place. Ann felt like screaming at them, "Stop it! It's scaring the students, stop it!" but her voice wouldn't work so she remained where she was, silently gawking at the hat which had now become a monster.

_Of course, dear students, don't despair_

_I will still sort you out,_

_That way I'll know just where your final_

_Ends will come about_

Ann shook her head and covered her face in horror as the reality of what was happening shot through her. She glanced at the first years sitting behind the sorting hat. Some seemed to think this was some sort of joke, others were staring at the hat like Ann, and still others were moving farther and farther away from the stool it sat upon. Ann saw the tall boy with black hair and noticed that the smug look on his face was gone; it had been replaced by a look of shock and utter confusion. Obviously he had no idea what was going on. Ann did though, there was only one explanation; the Sorting hat was possessed.

_So which house will I choose for you?_

_You'll have to wait and see_

_There's four, I hear, but one's the best_

_That one delivered me._

_------------------_

_I do not talk of Hufflepuff,_

_Where weaklings hide in shame,_

_The ones no other house will take_

_Are Hufflepuff's to claim._

_--------------------_

_Nor do I speak of Ravenclaw,_

_Where the brainy people go,_

_They may be smart but when danger strikes_

_Those Ravenclaws won't show._

_---------------------_

_I__ am not meaning Gryffindor,_

_Where they are 'brave' and 'strong'_

_These foolish ones will save their friends_

_But shan't survive for long._

_-----------------------_

_Yes, I speak of Slytherin_

_Where wit and cunning reign_

_This house takes no more than the best_

_Pure-blood values remain _

Looking around Ann saw that the Heads of House were standing up and conversing with each other. McGonagall was talking to them quickly, gesturing at the terrified students and then heading for the hat herself. The hat seemed to notice her coming and began to sing faster and faster.

_So those who think that they are sharp_

_Will head for Ravenclaw_

_The ones who feel they're 'brave' and 'bold'_

_I'll send to Gryffindor._

_----------------------_

_The pure-blood line with cunning too_

_Will honour Slytherin_

_Then Hufflepuff can take the rest,_

_For no one else wants them._

_------------------------_

_But all beware that I will come_

_Wherever you may be_

_And offer you the privilege_

_Of joining in with me._

_--------------------------_

_Should you refuse then I must say_

_You will regret your wish,_

_For if you aren't with me then you'll_

_Be sleeping with the fish_

McGonagall finally grabbed the hat and smothered it, turning to the closest teacher, Professor Trelawney, who it seemed had just come around, she pushed the hat into her hands and attempted to calm the panicking students. The Heads of house were leading their students out of the hall and each student willingly followed. Ann saw students clutching each other and staring warily at the stool the hat had sat upon, as though it might suddenly start singing too.

Ann felt herself being pulled along with her fellow Ravenclaws, but managed to push her way out of the throng and head over to where McGonagall stood, comforting the terrified first years.

"What happened? Why did it say those things?" Ann was practically shouting, not sure that McGonagall would hear her over the noise of the fleeing students.

"Miss Sligo, calm down. I have no idea what has happened to the sorting hat, but be assured we shall not be placing it on any student's head. Would you kindly head back to your common room, and tell your fellow students to do the same. I will make an announcement shortly." Ann nodded quickly as McGonagall spoke to her. She turned and began to leave when she noticed the first years, tears streaming down many of their pale faces.

"Where will they go?" she asked, gesturing towards the group.

McGonagall looked at the first years, a stressed look on her tired face.

"They will be split between the Prefects, who shall take them to their respective common rooms." Ann saw McGonagall looking over her shoulder and turned around to see several students, all with shiny P badges on their chests, looking at McGonagall, waiting for instruction.

"Where are the other Prefects?" McGonagall asked them, eyebrow raised.

"They must have gotten caught up in the rush," said a blonde Hufflepuff girl. McGonagall nodded and sighed. "Very well. Each of you take as many first years as you feel you can control, and lead them back to your common rooms." The students nodded and walked over to the first years.

As each Prefect led their chosen students towards their respective dormitories Ann followed, keeping the Ravenclaw Prefects in sight.

McGonagall sighed as she watched them go; this was only the beginning of yet another eventful year at Hogwarts.

* * *

Professor McGonagall finally headed back into the staff room, once she was sure every student was safely in their common rooms, and collapsed into an armchair. 

There were many teachers seated in the staff room, talking worriedly, and when they noticed her they all jumped up and ran over.

"Not until the heads of house return." McGonagall mumbled; it was as good an excuse as any, and it was true that she would prefer all the teachers to be there when they discussed the matter of the rogue Sorting Hat.

A few minutes later, professors Sprout, Flitwick and Marcell dashed into the room. McGonagall sighed and went over to the table. The other professors soon followed.

"So, Minerva, what happened to the hat?" Sprout asked, her brow furrowed and her hair messy.

McGonagall sighed again, and leant forward to look into the other teachers' eyes. When the only gaze she could not hold was that of Trelawney's, she began to speak. "As you all saw, the Sorting Hat is not it's usual self at the moment." There was a mumble of agreement between the other teachers which quickly faded as McGonagall's sharp eyes pierced into them again.

"I know that I do not have to tell you that it has caused tremendous problems. For a start, we cannot allow any student to place it upon their head, therefore need to find an alternative method to sort our first years. Our older students are not taking it particularly well either."

"But what has caused this to happen? What is wrong with the hat?" Pomona urged, the other teachers nodding encouragingly.

McGonagall shook her head and met the eye of each teacher once more. "I would think that it is obvious what is wrong. The Sorting Hat is either possessed or has had a rather advanced spell placed upon it. We do not know by whom, how they managed it or why they have done it at all. The only course of action we can take it to keep the hat isolated until Aurors can come in and apply their specialist knowledge to it," she stated. The teachers nodded quickly and McGonagall leant back, rubbing her tired eyes and wondering, not for the first time, how Albus had managed this so well.

At that moment, a large barn owl soared into the room, an official looking parchment attached to its leg. McGonagall sighed again and grabbed the letter, quickly thanking the owl before turning back to the other professors to read it.

_Minerva,_

_Thank you for alerting us; The Ministry has been expecting something like this for some time now. After months of silence, and Mr. Potter's consistent denials that he-who-must-not-be-named is gone, we have been awaiting the day that he would finally make a movement. We are not entirely sure as to what has happened to your sorting hat, but we shall be sending in several Ministry Officials to guard it. You can expect them some time early tomorrow._

_The hat will remain at Hogwarts under Ministry protection until we know for sure what is going on. Please inform us immediately at the first sign of danger, and we will show you the same courtesy._

_Sincerely,_

_Clayton Oppery,_

_Head of the search for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_

McGonagall placed the parchment on the table in front of her and quickly scanned it again, taking in all of the information. Officials would be arriving in the morning? The last thing she needed was Ministry Officials creeping around Hogwarts. How long did they expect them to be here? She wouldn't have them disrupting the childrens' schooling. She knew from prior experiences that something always went awry when the Ministry sent people in to 'guard' the school, or in this case the Sorting Hat. At least there was no Harry Potter around; problems came less frequently now that he had left Hogwarts.

"Head of the search for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" queried Filius Flitwick. "Does this mean they think this has something to do with You-Know-Who?"

"What do they mean by 'We shall be sending in several Ministry Officials to guard it'? What does the hat need protection from?" Pomona Sprout's round face was creased with concern as she questioned the Headmistress.

McGonagall held up her hand to silence them then quietly began to talk. "I think it is fairly straightforward when Mr. Oppery states that he will be sending Ministry Officials to guard it and, since he was the one to write the letter, then they must think it pertains to You-Know-Who. As to what the hat needs protection from, I rather think that it is the students who need protection from it. It is probably best if we do what the Ministry wants as long as their demands are not too onerous. After the debacle with that Umbridge woman, I would say that would be the best course of action. I, for one, do not want a repeat of past events. We will meet the officials tomorrow morning and see where to go from there. Now, however, I am going to bed. I shall see you all in the morning."

She rose from the table and, tucking the letter from the ministry into her robes, departed the staff room. Her head ached and her stomach rumbled; she hadn't eaten at the feast, but she didn't complain. This was what it meant to be Hogwarts' Headmistress, and she knew she couldn't very well whine; she had a reputation to uphold. All the same she thought to herself, as she had ever since that fateful day; _This school will never be the same without Albus Dumbledore._


	4. His most faithful

**Summary:**_ Aurors stand guard at Hogwarts, watching... waiting..._

_Hermione is running through the school, hurrying... hurrying..._

_When a young Auror in training lets a trusted Ministry worker through the door she is guarding, she could be making the biggest mistake of her life...__**

* * *

**_

_Song Lyrics taken from Devil in Disguise - **Elvis Presley**_

**

* * *

**

_**Chapter 4: His most faithful**_

_**

* * *

**_

"Hello, Hermione. I haven't seen you in a while," Nearly headless Nick said merrily as he floated alongside the Ministry Official. "Here on Ministry work, I expect? It must be keeping you busy."

"Very busy," agreed Hermione, her voice oddly sharp and snappy. "Sorry, but I must be going," she called. With that, she dashed off down the corridor, bushy hair flying behind her. Nick shook his head and muttered to himself "Strange girl, changed so much since her Hogwarts days. She used to be quite talkative."

Hermione ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her heart racing and her head sore. Her steps were slightly erratic, but they were sure; she knew exactly where she was going. She made her way through the school, along a few staircases and past many chatting students. Several students turned to each other and giggled as she passed, and received an evil glare from Hermione in return. She would have done more than glare, but she didn't have time, so she kept on.

At last she came to a stop. She was at the head of a corridor, empty but for a single figure stood stiffly at a door, head held high and wand drawn. Hermione stood for a moment, staring at the figure, then slowly made her way towards it.

* * *

_**You look like an angel**__

* * *

_

Sherrill Bowers stared out along the corridor. It had been a long day, and she had been pestered by several students since she had taken her place on the third floor that morning. Even after her tiring day, she held her head high and her wand drawn, sharp eyes searching for anyone that might pose a threat. She knew that the likelihood of anyone making their way down the corridor, let alone a Death Eater, was very low, but she was an Auror in training, and she had a reputation to uphold.

This was her sixth day on the job, yet it never grew less exciting. Truth be told, it was dull work, but compared to the paperwork she had been filing at the Ministry, it was like riding a rollercoaster. The kids that annoyed her fellow Aurors thrilled her, she loved the challenge of ordering them away, telling them to keep their noses out of other people's business. It was great to be back at Hogwarts. Three years after graduating, she enjoyed observing the new students, reminiscing as she stood guard, attending one or two meals every week. She couldn't understand how her co-workers could complain so much.

Sherrill often felt the urge to open the door she stood before; take a peek inside. She knew that it could cost her her position as an Auror in training, but sometimes she got so bored standing there that she almost lost control of herself and opened it. Once or twice her hand had been on the handle, once she had turned it, but never had she opened it. Only qualified Aurors went in there, the Aurors in training stood by the door in the corridor. Sherrill knew this, she and her co-workers had had it drilled into them, _Never go inside the door_, and the constant reminder kept her curiosity under control. Still, she often dreamt about what might be in there; daydreaming filled the time.

Her mind began to flutter into daydream land once more when she saw a movement down the corridor. Turning, she saw a figure with bushy brown hair and a cloak too big making her way along the corridor. Sherrill jumped; it was Hermione Granger! Hermione was Head of the Department for the Welfare and Protection of Magical Creatures, Sherrill knew. What was she doing at Hogwarts?

"Move aside," Hermione spat, her voice harsh and her eyes cold. Sherrill stared at her, worried. Hermione was always so nice, why was she being so rude? Could she let Hermione in, after being told so many times that only Aurors were allowed inside? Sherrill shook her head; of course she could let Hermione in. She was one of the most trusted Ministry workers around, and she definitely had authority over Sherrill; she could hardly _not_ let her in.

"Of course," Sherrill said, stepping aside to allow Hermione through the door. She smiled at Hermione, but Hermione grabbed the handle without a glance at Sherrill and threw the door open. Sherrill glimpsed one of the Head Aurors, surrounded by three others, standing over a trap door. Then Hermione slammed the door behind her.

* * *

**_Walk like an angel_****_

* * *

_**

"Hermione? What the hell are you doing here?" Jordan Clapp shouted as the short bushy figure of Hermione Granger bounded through the door. No one was allowed through that door except Aurors, and that meant _no one_. Sherrill Bowers would be in serious trouble for this. All the same, he tried to keep a smile on his face; best not to offend his brother's girlfriend.

"I need to see the hat," Hermione told him, leaning down and opening the trap door. "The Minister sent me; I think I may have made a break in the case." She heaved the heavy wooden door open and began to slide through the gap now showing. Jordan's fellow Aurors were giving him apprehensive looks; they weren't sure what to do, they were under strict orders. No one was allowed to see the hat except Minerva McGonagall, Clayton Oppery, and the Minister himself.

Jordan ran over and gripped Hermione's hand, stopping her just before she jumped through the trap door. "Hermione, you're not allowed down there," he said, pulling her up and signalling for the others to shut the door. He led her over to the wall and tried to explain.

"Look, Hermione. It doesn't matter if you've made a break in the case; the fact is that you're not allowed down there. I know you're Eric's girlfriend, but that doesn't make you an exception." His hands were gripping her shoulders and he stared into her eyes. What he saw concerned him; they were dark and cruel, so unlike the warm eyes he knew. "Hermione," he asked "What is your owl's nickname?" This was the question he knew Eric and Hermione had agreed upon, incase either of them ever showed signs of being under the Imperius curse. He waited for an answer, but none came. Instead, Hermione lifted her hand into view; in it, Jordan's wand.

"I believe this is answer enough," she said, and he let go of her carefully. What an idiot! He had placed his wand in his robes because he had not thought Hermione any threat; that was the first rule in the book! Well, it was actually the fifth, but still, he knew it well enough. Never trust _anyone_.

Brian Chappell, Clinton Fields and Jeremy Hughes, the other Aurors in the room, had been keeping a close eye on the couple, and all had their wands on Hermione. They began to surround her, coming closer and closer, until Hermione shot a random curse into the air.

"Next time, I won't miss," she said. "Put your wands i down /i and I won't hurt your partner." She gestured at Jordan.

He lunged shouted at them "Don't do it! You know the rules, protecting the hat is more important than me!"

"That's i enough /i ," Hermione said, aiming her wand and sending a silent curse his way. It hit him square in the chest and he was thrown against a wall. She turned away from him and, apparently deciding that it was easier to curse than to bargain, attacked Chappell. He fell to the ground with a thud, knocking Hughes right off his feet. Fields lifted his wand and began to shout a counter curse but Hermione got there first. He too joined his friends, knocking his head hard on the ground as he fell.

The blood pouring from Fields' head didn't deter Hermione; she ran to the trap door, lifted it and jumped through.

* * *

**_Talk like an angel_**

* * *

Linden Mulroney was at his desk, feet propped up on a pillow he had conjured, the day's paper in his hands. A large mug of coffee sat on his desk, and as he read about the recent goblin slaughtering he heard a loud rap on the door.

"Come in," He drawled, but there was no need. Jeremy Hughes had already burst into his office, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear.

"Sir, they got to the sorting hat," He panted, then collapsed into the chair beside the desk.

"What! Who got to it Hughes? Was it the Death Eaters?" Mulroney bellowed at his number one Auror. Hughes was still fighting for breath but Mulroney shook him round. "What happened, boy?"

"Ermine…" Hughes croaked. Mulroney patted him on the back rather harshly, encouraging him to continue. "What was that, m' boy?

With an effort, Hughes started to whisper again. The head of Aurors listened closely and distinctly heard the words, "Hermione Granger"

* * *

**_But I got wise...

* * *

_**

The graveyard was dark and silent, fog curled around the gravestones and the wind whispered secrets to the dead. Not a soul could be seen for many a mile, except for one dark, lonely figure cloaked in black robes.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood by a large black cauldron, the harsh wind whipping her robes around her, throwing her hair in every direction. But a passer-by would not have seen her as Bellatrix, for she was short, and had bushy hair tangling itself around her. She looked nothing like the renowned Death Eater she was, but exactly like the Head of the Department for the Welfare and Protection of Magical Creatures.

She stared into the cauldron, imagining her master's pride when his one faithful Death Eater brought him back to power, and as she stared her features began to contort themselves. She doubled over in pain, but when she stood tall again she was no longer Hermione Granger.

It had been the perfect plan; attract a ministry worker to that filthy Muggle house, then kidnap them. The potion was prepared and all that was needed was a single hair, when Kreacher had brought in their victim. What a wonderful surprise Bellatrix had received when she saw Hermione Granger floating towards her; this could help her plan greatly.

It had been two years, two long, fateful years since her master's downfall. She had been searching throughout those years, trying to find what the boy could not. The last part of her masters soul. But she, unlike the boy, sought not to destroy it. She sought to bring him back, bring him to full power once more. But for that, she needed the Horcrux.

Her master had reached out to her a few months ago. It had been all over the papers, _Hat possessed,_ _Sorting goes awry_. It was best known as the event of _The Rogue Sorting Hat._

Some foolish student had memorised the words the hat had sung and given them to a reporter; the lyrics had been all over the papers within a week. When Bellatrix had read them, she had known that it was time.

Since then, the hat had been under lock and key at Hogwarts, protected by Aurors and spells; charms like those that had protected the Philosophers stone ten years ago. There was no way of getting through the school, past the Aurors and by the charms… until now.

The scrape of a foot behind Bellatrix shocked her; she spun around to see a small, knobbly creature levitating a girl's body towards her. Thick, blonde hair fell from the girl's face, her Muggle attire disgusting Bellatrix to the point of near illness, but she left it at a wince and pointed to her right. A large headstone stood there, the words _Tom Riddle _engraved into it. Before the stone lay the limp body of the real Hermione Granger, unconscious, but tied to the ground for precaution. The small creature levitated the floating body towards the stone and let it fall with a crunch onto Hermione.

"You have done well, Kreacher," she praised, her cold voice sending shivers through the yard. The creature bowed low and stuttered excitedly "Anything for Kreacher's mistress."

Bellatrix nodded and told him to go; she had work to do.

She watched the two women lying unconscious on the ground and stroked the old, worn pointed hat in her hands. Finally, she would win her master's pride. She would be his most faithful. She would return him to power.

But first, she needed Harry Potter.

* * *

**_You're the devil in disguise

* * *

_**


End file.
